Forgive Me Father
by Midnight Rain
Summary: The dragon will find his way by the light of the moon. A slow reconciliation between sworn enemies leads to the decent of evil.
1. Cold Prospects

Author's Note and Disclaimer: The idea for this story hit me out of nowhere. I haven't read all of the sixth book yet (what a horrible Harry Potter fan I am. I do have it though, awaiting my reading pleasure) so some of the plot here will be altered to fit. Hope you enjoy. So far, I own nothing but the plot, unfortunately.

**Chapter One: Cold Prospects **

_I was walking through the skin of the mirror_

_Into the unexpected country of my childhood._

_I watched my body dispersed and reunited_

_Somewhere else, transformed, transfigured._

_-Edward Hirsch_

_-_

That night the rain poured from the heavens as if to knock loose the stars. It crashed with a tumultuous rage, causing the tiny plants to quiver as they bent beneath the water's mighty will. It brought the Wrath of the Gods, screaming and booming at the two individuals in the process of attempting to change fate.

They huddled, man and wife, in the midst of the rain with a child clutched between them. Screaming and shivering, the child wiggled in the woman's arms. She held the baby close, trying to keep it warm. However, their magic was dwindling. There was hardly enough left for the last spell.

However, hope was not gone. Somewhere, in the distance, a child had survived the killing curse. With an age-old prophecy discovered, the Dark Lord's reign would end. The Boy Who Lived would not be alone in his desperation to fight he-who-must-not-be-named. _A Dragon would be led to victory over evil by the light of the moon. _

The mother laid her baby on the patch of clovers; sprinkling marigold and snowdrop petals over the child's torso. The parents began to chant. The mother watched with saddened eyes as an aura appeared around the baby, causing her blankets to flutter and reveal the crescent moon shaped birthmark on her ankle. The world around them fell silent. The rain slowed, even the human eye could trace the raindrop's destination to the ground. Lightning froze in its journey across the sky, a beautiful pattern of seared edges. With raised eyes, the mother felt as if the sky was tearing open, pushing the weight of ages onto her chest.

The words trickled from their mouths like poetry, like pain. She could hardly breath as her own life force funneled from her body and into a large sphere that hovered over the child's head. When their chanting ceased, the energy began to descend upon the child.

The mother flinched, wanting to hold her baby close to her chest just one more time. "No, for the good of the world," her husband whispered, holding her back. He placed a kiss on her cheek and whispered a confession of unconditional love. However, the words were distant, merely an echo before they even reached her ears.

The power settled inside the baby's chest, barreling out and slamming the parents to the ground. Once again, the rain resumed. Crashing around the bodies as if mocking them. Thunder and lightning screeched, drowning out the child's screaming. Screams that fell on the lifeless ears of loving parents.

**Seventeen years later: **

_What happened to it all? Each year had slipped from his hands before he had even realized it was gone. They all seem to go like that, quickly and leaving behind a permanent stain on his life. What happened, he questioned again, to the life of kids? It seemed all an echo of a time long past. Was it even him? _

_He had always been what his father had asked him to be. Knowing full well the punishment if he had not, he dutifully obeyed every command. For seven years, he had kept an eye on Potter, Weasley, and their mudblood friend Granger. _

_He knew all these tasks would lead up to one moment: his own initiation into the Dark Ranks. From the moment he understood the contrast between good and evil, he knew that he would always, without doubt, know his place. The line had been drawn and he had been deemed unworthy to sit among the ranks of The Boy who Lived, brave Granger, and noble Weasley. _

_Despite the obvious path in front of him, Draco Malfoy felt doubt, from somewhere, rising in his mind. _

It was always the cold that woke him. Despite the canopy bed, draped in a silk coverlet, which provided adequate warmth, nothing could subdue the evil that radiated from Malfoy Manor. After his mother had passed away, the house had grown only colder, as had the spirit that lingered somewhere in the dusty abyss of Draco's soul.

Draco pushed aside the cover, placing his feet on the icy stone floor. He was used to it by now, the ever-present numbness. Moving across the room, Draco paused to confront the man that stared at him from the mirror.

Draco smirked, smoothing a hand over his muscled chest. If there was one thing he could take pride in, it was his youth. He had grown into a man, one he suspected his father envied. He had cut his hair so that without large amounts of gel, it had the tendency to stick straight up. His eyes narrowed under perfectly curved eyebrows. His father's _girls _had told him that he had the most striking eyes of anyone they had ever seen. They were a deep, heartless slate grey that had developed from years of living in the Manor. Patrician cheekbones and pale porcelain skin added to the eloquently evil aspect of Draco Malfoy.

Behind this exterior, Draco molded himself into the perfect son of Lucius Malfoy. He could recite by memory many of the Dark curses and hexes and their counter-curses. Though he hadn't been initiated as of yet, he still went to every Death Eater meeting and had since he turned seventeen. His father had even allowed him to go on a few top-secret missions, during which he honed his skills at the crucio curse.

Draco slipped on a black tee, exiting his room. Downstairs, Draco could hear his father arguing with some whore. Upon entering the dining room, both sets of eyes snapped in his direction.

"Draco," Lucius snapped, warning his son with a hint of power.

"What?" Draco questioned, calling a house elf to his side. "I want to eggs – sunny side up – with a slice of toast and sausage." After ordering, Draco turned back to his father and the slut.

The girl was impatiently tapping her heels against the marble floor. The rapid noise grated on Draco's nerves. Finally, he snapped, "What the bloody hell are you still doing here?" Being that Draco had never even spoken to one of his father's hookers, let along yell at them, he was sure she was startled. "You are just something to pick up and throw away. He doesn't pay you for your conversational skills," Draco snorted. "Believe me, I can assure you of that. Go away. If he ever decides, for some reason God only knows, that he does wish to speak to you, then I'm sure he'll call."

The girl, who Draco had heard his father address as Lucy, was taken aback. She sputtered, an angry huff escaping her rosy lips.

"Well, you heard him," Lucius waved his hand in dismissal. Lucius had begun to read the Daily Prophet and completely ignored the dejected girl to his left. Once the girl had left, angered at being ignored by both Malfoys, Lucius began to speak to his son. "There is a meeting tonight. I expect that you will be there."

"Of course, Father." Draco picked up a fork and began to eat the meal that he had ordered. Without even a thanks from Draco, the house elf shuffled back into his corner.

Draco silently ate his food for the remainder of breakfast. When he finished, he laid down his fork and began to scoot back from the table.

"Oh, and Draco, tonight you will become a Death Eater. The Dark Lord has finally deemed you worthy enough to join the inner circle. This is a great honor." Lucius looked up from his paper. "A note came for you in the mail."

"Yes sir," Draco agreed. He rubbed his left forearm, glancing at the pale skin. Soon the dark skull would be etched there, snake slithering across his flesh. He pushed his chair back under the table. Leaving the dining room, he meandered into the foyer. The mail was thrown haphazardly on top of a round table in the middle of the grand room.

He picked up the letter addressed to him, noting the foreign crest at the top of the envelope.

_Dear Mr Draco Malfoy,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into Madame Monfrey's Finishing School. I, Madame Monfrey, specially chose you from a list of students provided by Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please note, that if you chose to attend, send a letter in advance so we know that you are coming. _

_If you do attend, be advised that owls and cats are the only creatures allowed here. It is still under debate where any form of Magical Creatures class will be offered. We offer classes that advance beyond the teaching of our Predecessors. It is a great opportunity to become friends with people that will stay with you through out the rest of your life. _

_If you chose to attend, please bring: _

_1 wand_

_1 standard cauldron_

_Quills _

_Ink_

_2 sets of plain black robes_

_1 winter cloak, black_

_All potion supplies and books will be provided up arriving to classes. _

_Respectively Yours,_

_Madame Monfrey_

Draco lowered the letter, confused. _Madame Monfrey? _Had he ever heard of her before? He returned to his father's side, letter still clutched in his grasp. Before he had a change to express his confusion on that matter, Lucius spoke up. "I suspect you will be going. This school is a strange occurrence. I feel that it is a threat to the Dark Lord."

"To the Dark Lord?" Draco questioned. Of course, this would be about him. Draco could have ran stark naked through the halls of Malfoy Manor during his father's yearly Dark Wizard Dinner and Lucius would have exclaimed that the Dark Lord would be ashamed and offended. It never mattered to Lucius how Draco felt or acted, unless it was against Voldemort.

"You will attend the school as a spy. I will expect reports home from you every week. We need this Malfoy." Lucius stood, placing a hand on his father's shoulder. "After Harry escaping my grasp once again, the Malfoy name is tainted in the Dark Wizard Circle. Is this clear?"

Draco nodded, without speaking. As soon as his father left the room, the letter slipped from his grasp. He lowered his head into his hands and wondered at what he had become and what he was becoming. Tonight, he would become a monster. He had killed, tortured, maimed- all in the name of the Dark Lord, for the sake of his father. Though his conscious had never haunted him, something that constantly caused worry, his anger presided inside his soul, boiling.

His anger at being bossed around and used like some rag doll. Perhaps, he didn't have the conviction his father possessed for all things dark. It wasn't that he was angry at having to do it for the Dark Lord, it was that he was expendable that irritated him. It was he was ordered to do the dangerous or nasty jobs, and authority didn't sit well on Draco's shoulders.

-

Figures spiraled in on Draco, circling him like vultures ready for the kill. He could see the flash of their eyes underneath the skull masks. He smirked, hands clenching his wand tightly in his coat pocket. He knew what he was here for- to be marked. But the way they danced around him, the way they chanted their spells, he felt like a sacrifice.

And Draco wouldn't put it past his father to toss him up to the altar. Not if the Dark Lord demanded it so.

Suddenly, the figures parted, revealing in their place the Dark Lord himself. "So, young Malfoy, are you ready to be your father's pride and one of my Death Eaters."

"Of course, my Lord." He had been raised for this very moment. He was taught how to speak, how to address, and how to look at Voldemort.

Voldemort smiled and his snake-like resemblance was apparent. He waved his arm and Draco was unceremoniously shoved forward, his left sleeve torn away in the process. He stood before the Dark Lord, pride allowing him to hold his head high. 

"I am giving you something to be proud of, boy." Voldemort placed his wand against Draco's flesh, whispering under his breath.

A tiny spark of pain shot up Draco's arm. It was followed by the most torturous moments of Draco's short life. Each line of the snake slithering its way onto Draco's flesh sent a searing pain up his arm. Each tooth of the screaming skull ripped a moan of agony from his lips.

When Voldemort had finished lacing the mark into Draco's arm, he released him. Draco stumbled to the ground, clutching his arm. Pain caused his vision to swirl. He could hardly make out the figure of his father, smiling broadly and talking with Voldemort.

"He leaves in a few days," he could hear his father's voice. It was a distant whisper. "He has been briefed on what I expect of him."

"Very good," the Dark Lord hissed.

**Author's Note: I edited this chapter, added some scenes and made others longer. I hope you enjoy the revised version. **

**If you are reading this for the first time, please tell me how you liked it. I love to here comments on my work. It only takes a second and your input fuels my writing. I have plenty of adventures ahead, awaiting both Draco and Hermione and plenty of D/H goodness. **

**Much Love, **

**M.R. **

_marigold: pain/ grief_

_snowdrops: hope _

_clover: hope / luck _


	2. Old Bossy Hermione

Author's note: Well, I was expecting a bit more feedback. I suppose that is why I held off posting this next chapter. Anyway, please review. How do I know if you like it or not if you don't review? I want to thank **midnightdragoness, **my one reviewer. Thank you so much.

**Forgive me Father**

**Chapter Two: Old Bossy Hermione**

_He is aware of the mockery of the streets,_

_But does not understand it…_

_Today he will not accuse the accusers; it is perhaps_

_All that saves them…_

_Rousseau was right,_

_Of that he is still convinced: _Man is naturally good!

_--- Donald Justice "A Man of 1794"_

**--**

Hermione, after seven years of working her tail to the bone, decided to take a break. _A break, _she laughed to herself, _from school, from the wizarding world, from evil henchmen. _The only aspect of her other life that didn't allow it to be broken away from was her friends, Ron and Harry. They were very adamant about keeping in touch as each went their separate ways.

Harry and Ron had ended up in the Ministry. Harry apprenticed under Mr. Weasley and learned the art of the Department of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts, although the young apprentice had far more knowledge to bestow upon Mr. Weasley.

Hermione had retired, for the time being, from the life of being a wizard. She raised her wand _accio-_ing the pitcher of lemonade from the outside bar. Albeit the sun was hardly out, Hermione eyed the somewhat threatening grey clouds above; she managed to enjoy simply the light breeze.

Hermione flipped open her book, beginning to read. She had transitioned from reading those thick schoolbooks to simple romance novels that her mother lent her. She had a passion for reading that wouldn't be quelled by beauty magazines or those muggle newspapers her father always read.

As she continued to read about the wounded knight stumbling upon an enchanted castle, she slowly dozed into her own fantasy.

_"Her Kingdom was stolen from her."_

_"Being a women, she had no way of stopping the overthrow." _

_"A blessing, really. A woman would have only brought ruin to the kingdom." _

_She heard the whispers on the street, but refused to acknowledge the truth in them. She was powerless in the face of a man, especially one who had somehow gained the respect of her entire army. How had she allowed it to happen right under her nose? _

_She let out a sharp screech that was quickly muffled by warm leather gloves. "Don't worry, my queen. I won't hurt you." The voice was soothingly familiar but she couldn't put a face to it. The warmth of his arms and chest disappeared as he turned her around to face him. She stared at a man that could have been anyone. To her dream mind, he was familiar and a comforting image to behold. "Monsieur… I thought I would never see you again." _

_"I want you to listen closely, my queen. There are several fellow troops that have planned to have your backing. We want to serve you the best we can, even if you no longer have your crown. I believe that you are what this nation needs." A comforting change to the scathing remarks she had been receiving. _

_"But what could I possibly do for my people when they don't even like me?" Hermione begged an answer of the young knight. _

_"Just keep your chin up," he nudged her chin with his finger. He lingered for a second, the soft leather of his glove resting against her skin. He finally pulled away, bowing to her. "My lady, remember what I have said." With that, he was gone. _

_"Hermione-"_

_She turned around to see a figure leering over her, black eyes baring down on her. _

She awoke with a start. When she focused on the abnormally close set of green eyes staring into hers, she nearly jumped out of her skin. "Harry!" She quickly sat up, knocking her head into his, causing her to crash back onto the chair.

"Ow, god, 'mione." Harry backed away from her rubbing his forehead.

"Well Jesus, Harry, what are you doing here anyway?" Hermione sat up, frustrated that she had fallen asleep.

"Nothing, admiring your choice of summer reading." Harry laughed, throwing the book with the smooching couple back at Hermione, who blushed a deep crimson.

"I'll have you know that this book comes highly recommended." Hermione argued, adjusting her seating on the lawn chair. "Besides, I was enjoying the beautiful outside air."

"Beautiful," Harry scoffed, watching the rumble of dark clouds above. "Oh-" He plunged his hand into his pocket, pulling out a crumbled piece of paper. "Your roommate told me to give this to you. I guess it came in the mail." He crossed the distance that stood between them to hand her the paper.

"It's a letter." Hermione said simply, "and it has the Hogwarts crest on it." She ripped it open, revealing the letter.

_Dear Miss Hermione Granger_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into Madame Monfrey's Finishing School. I, Madame Monfrey, specially chose you from a list of students provided by Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please note, that if you chose to attend, send a letter in advance so we know that you are coming. _

_If you do attend, be advised that owls and cats are the only creatures allowed here. It is still under debate where any form of Magical Creatures class will be offered. We offer classes that advance beyond the teaching of our Predecessors. It is a great opportunity to become friends with people that will stay with you through out the rest of your life. _

_If you chose to attend, please bring: _

_1 wand_

_1 standard cauldron_

_Quills _

_Ink_

_2 sets of plain black robes_

_1 winter cloak, black_

_All potion supplies and books will be provided up arriving to classes. _

_Respectively Yours,_

_Madame Monfrey_

"Sounds like it's right up your alley." Harry teased, hands disappearing into his pockets. "Are you going?"

Hermione eyed the letter with suspicion. "Do you think what they are doing is totally legal? A finishing school that I've never heard about, I think it sounds kind of fishy. I wonder what they teach?" Hermione's eyebrows furrowed together, brown eyes filled with curiosity.

"You're right. A school that Hermione Granger has never heard about." Harry replied with a shake of his head, not even bothering to ponder the thought. "I'm sure, like the letter says, there has been an attempt to keep the school hidden, though I don't know why."

"Exactly!" Hermione blurted, letter falling onto the lawn chair. "Why would something like this be kept a secret."

"To keep people from demanding admission. I mean imagine if some family, like the Malfoy's, decided they wanted to pay their way in without correct qualifications." Harry interjected. "It would destroy the school's reputation."

"What reputation? I have never heard of them before." Hermione picked up the book and the discarded letter of admissions. "Come on. Let's go inside, I'll make tea."

"Hermione," Harry plodded into the house behind her. "Maybe this school isn't a bad idea. You can get away. Rest and stop worrying about all the chaos going on down at the ministry."

"I'm not worrying," Hermione murmured as she stirred the sugar into the tea. It was a lie, of course. She couldn't help but worry about what was going on down there when her two best friends were current haunts of its many floors.

"Plus, you love school," Harry continued, ignoring her earlier remark. "I'll keep you updated on sightings of Voldemort." He took the offered cup of tea, sipping the hot liquid.

"I guess, Harry." She sighed, tasting her own tea. "However, make sure you send an owl to me everyday."

"That's my old bossy Hermione." Harry laughed, ruffling her brown locks. "Make sure those guys know who they will be dealing with if they mess with you, K?"

Hermione blushed as she pulled a quill from her desk drawer to scribble a note of acceptance. "Look at me, Mr. Potter. You've been here less than an hour and made me blush twice." She playfully looked up at him from the haze of her eyelashes.

She would miss him and Ron most of all while she was away.

-

**Author's ending note: **Sorry this took such a long time coming. I didn't think I was going to continue. However, re-reading it now has spurred some creative juices. So here is the next chapter. Hopefully it will gain more interest than the last chapter did. I promise the next chapter will not take as long to get out. I've got some interesting ideas stewing.

Much love,

M.R


	3. Evil

Author's note: I would like to thank reviewers: **CiCi-Star**, **Rosegurl05** and the anonymous** Jam**. I would also like to thank the many of those who placed the story on their alert list. I am very happy to get this chapter out, being my favorite of the three and offering so many questions in the plot line. Hope you enjoy. It also contains a few bad words.

**Chapter three: Evil**

_In the desert, _

_I saw a creature, naked, bestial,_

_Who, squatting upon the ground,_

_Held his heart in his hands, _

_And ate of it. _

_Is said, 'Is it good, friend?'_

'_It is bitter – bitter,' he answered;_

'_But I like it_

_Because it is bitter, _

_And because it is my heart.'_

_-The Heart by Stephen Crane_

_-_

Draco bounced along inside the carriage as it wandered down the beaten path. He sat silently inside the quaking death trap with one other person. A small studious-looking girl with extremely large spectacles and straight red hair occupied the seat in front of him. She had her noise stuck inside a book, much like someone he used to know. However, the girl kept giving him peevish glances across the top of her leather- bound shield.

It didn't take long for the developed habit to irritate Draco Malfoy. He lounged comfortably at an angel on his side of the carriage with his belongings stuffed at the far end. His head lodged securely so it didn't vibrate with the unevenness of the dirt road. All in all, he was relaxed enough that he could have dozed off for a nice nap until they arrived at their destination. At least, he could have if the girl wasn't blatantly staring at him by this point.

"Is there something I can help you with?" Draco snapped, aggravated.

"I've seen you before…" She whispered, voice a faint murmur over the racket of the clanking wheels.

"That would be impossible," Draco said haughtily. "I've never met you before in my life. Believe me, I would remember." He turned away from her, expecting the end of the conversation.

But no, the girl had much more to say. "In a dream, I've seen you. I'm sure I have. I wouldn't forget those grey eyes… not how they stared at me so… eerily." Draco sighed, controlling his anger. In his mind he pictured another Loony Lovegood, with her enormously large silver eyes and bizarre nature.

"Look, I've never met you and you must have me confused with someone else. Now, if you could _please _leave me alone and let me be." Draco closed his eyes, resting snugly into his nook.

The girl tsked, returning once again to her book. "If only you would have listened…" she whispered too lightly for Draco's sleeping ears to hear.

In what felt like seconds to Draco, the frail girl shook him awake. He grumbled out a barely audible, "We are there already?" It didn't even occur to him that he had no idea where _there _was. He stumbled from the carriage, giving the horses as disgusted look as the wind whisked their sweaty stench up his nostrils. "How did Hagrid ever do it?" He muttered, brushing absent dust from his robes.

"Crookshanks, NO!" he heard the familiar scream only moments before sharp claws darted up his backside, latching painfully onto the back of his cloak and digging into his skin. "I'm so sorry," the girl continued as she tore the leech from his back. The girl's voice clicked some mental switch inside his mind and he suddenly knew whose face would be peering apologetically at him when he turned around. However, he knew the look wouldn't last.

"Granger," he smirked, turning around to face his old enemy. "Maybe you should keep your fluff ball under control, eh?" Draco raised an eyebrow, staring into Hermione's saucer-sized brown pools.

"Oh, it's you! Why on earth would they invite you here?" The words fell like vomit as they slipped from her mouth, laced with disgust.

He knew that she thought she was finished with him the moment they graduated from Hogwarts together, equal in rank. "I should ask the very same thing," Draco muttered, scowl present on his aristocratic features. "I thought this was supposed to be a _good _school, but apparently they are inviting Mudbloods as well."

Hermione's temper flew hot, tingeing her cheeks pink. "Malfoy, you are the same slimy git-"

"Now, now, Granger, you might hurt my feelings," Draco chided, tsking as he turned away from her.

"I should have let you maul his backside," Draco heard her faintly whisper to the cat in her arms. He could imagine that she was stroking it lovingly, eyes narrowed at his back as he walked away.

The school was nothing like Hogwarts. Instead of the large gothic turrets and towers, laced with gargoyles and the impressive seven stories, there was a quaint country villa, nestled into the side of a small mountain. On one side, a small row of trees blocked the sight of a large apple orchard. On the other side, the forest continued on indefinitely. Draco could already tell that this was going to be a tight squeeze locked inside the small place with Granger.

"Ladies and gentleman," a woman's voice crooned over the soft chatter. "This is your new home for the next 9 months. I suggest you take a liking to it." She was a surprisingly chipper lady of over 50. She sported salt and pepper hair, which fell loosely past her shoulders. She had on a dark navy blue robe, clasped together with a star pendant at the base of her throat. She continued on, "I am Madame Sala and will be your astronomy teacher."

Draco cursed, feeling another year worth of Hogwarts about to be beaten into his brain. He thought Hogwarts had been the end of all of it. But no, here he was, serving his Dark Lord far from home. He was sent as a spy to see why the new school had appeared out of nowhere, without a record. In the wizarding world, any such development could be considered strange and unusual.

He glanced back toward Hermione to find her listening attentively to the old bats long-winded speech.

"As for your age, because of it, we can set no strict rules. With every student here being over eighteen, it is hard to set many. The only requests and warnings are these. The woods and orchard are not safe to wander around in after dark. All of you, I'm sure noted the town we passed through on the way here." Draco furrowed his eyebrows. _There was a town, around these parts… I must have been asleep. _He was snapped back into reality when Madame Sala began to continue her lecture. "I request that if you stay out after dark in that town that you enter the house as quietly as possible, so as not to disturb myself or the other instructors."

Draco took in the words with little acknowledgement to their meaning. He was just ecstatic that he wasn't completely in the middle of nowhere.

"As you can tell, there is a select few of you gathered here. Six students were chosen; two from each school to represent Madame Monfrey's finishing school. Here we offer only the best classes and only the most needed. However, as you can see there are no sport facilities here. To compensate, Madame Monfrey purchases tickets to the professional Quidditch matches, one every month. These times allow our students a break from rigorous work. However, it should be noted that these trips are a privilege."

Draco couldn't believe this place, no rules, hardly any people to annoy him and Quidditch! A slight pain began to pulse in his left forearm reminding him that he wasn't at the school to enjoy himself. Voldemort's last words echoed in his mind: _This is no time to be playing around, boy. You have a reputation to recover for your family… or there might be little of them to return to. _

"Now, as a finishing statement, may it be known that your schedules are to be handed out tomorrow morning. Two per class will be how it is divided. Attendance is operative. If you are not in class, it will be obvious."

"No shit," Draco murmured under his breath. "Half the class will be gone."

"Do you wish to say something Mr Malfoy?" The woman's unearthly lavender eyes focused on Draco, blinking expectantly.

"Of course not, I was just making the observation that if one person is missing then so would half the class." Draco smiled, attempting to weasel his way out of the scrutiny of Madame Sala.

She continued to stare at him for what seemed like agonizingly long hours to Draco before averting her eyes back to the entire class. "Mr Malfoy is correct in his observation, so be on time and present. That is all I have to say." She stepped aside with a flourish of her wispy robes, hand fluttering in welcome toward the widening front doors. "Welcome to my home."

Draco was the first to step inside the villa. He knew magic was interlaced in the foundation for the inside was much larger than the outside. The foyer diverged into three different paths. One led off to the right, to the left and the last was a staircase leading up to the second story.

In the background, Draco heard Hermione whisper. "How many floors does this place have?"

"Only three, deary," a wizened voice shocked Draco from his memorization of the floorplan. He spun around, curious to see the new addition to the room. An old lady, bent almost double over a knobby cane crept into the center of the room. "Madame Elda, your potions instructor." She wheezed, breath catching tightly in her throat.

Draco snorted. In his mind, he saw her leaning over a cauldron, whispering Macbeth into the night. _"Double, double, toil and trouble; fire, burn; and caldron, bubble."_ It was a vast difference from Snape's presence.

Madame Sala began to usher to students up the stairs. "The third floor is your bedroom quarters, please go get settled in. You things should already be up there."

Draco followed the rush up the stairs. It was much like Hogwarts in the aspect that the portraits that hung on the wall whispered to each other as the new students ascended to their rooms. At the top of the stairs, a long hallway stretched seemingly farther into the mountain than it had appeared from the outside.

"They have our names labeled on the doors," a young girl spoke up, her voice obviously cultured in France. _Beauxbatons_.

Draco found his toward the end of the hallway. Noting briefly that Hermione's was located across the hall from his. He glanced down the corridor, noticing that she was chatting with the four other students. Why not give her room a little peek?

He reached out, grabbing the door handle to her room. As soon as his fingers wrapped around the cool bronze, a sharp pain sparked throughout his body. "Shit," Draco exclaimed, ripping his hand away from the door.

A loud cackling filled the air, a high wheezing noise. The ghost sauntered from out of the wall, propping up on Draco's shoulder. "The doors are rigged. That is not your door and you mean the room nothing positive. Gregory the first, I am. I have haunted these halls for ages, and seen several other students like you."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Draco snapped, still cradling his hand.

Gregory the first moved away from Draco Malfoy, examining him from boots to platinum blonde hair. "Evil," the ghost murmured before fading away.

-

Downstairs, the two instructors waited until they no longer heard the footsteps of their pupils. "I don't know why you insisted on inviting that one, Elda," Madame Sala commented softly.

"Because, Vi, he will be needed. Just wait, you'll see. Mr Malfoy will come to his senses." The old woman lowered herself into an old burgundy chair, clutching her cane close.

"I don't know. I think he is too far-gone. I can smell he-who-must-not-be-named on his skin." Madame Sala, or Vi, shivered.

"Come now, Vi, there are no fears here." Elda's words echoed softly across the space that separated them. They somehow rung slightly false in Vi's bones, sending warning signals throughout her marrow.

"If you say so, Elda. If you say so."

**Author's Note: **I tried to make this one as long as possible. I have left you with two very curious statements. Review and tell me how you like this chapter and what you think the cryptic messages mean.

There will be much more adventure in up coming chapters. Animagi, perhaps vampires, hidden secrets and much more await our characters. Plus the strange introduction… what can it all mean?

Much love,

M.R.


	4. Goodnight Princess

Author's note and disclaimer: Another chapter out. I hope you enjoy it. I know I am loving this story. I want to thank **Cici-Star, RoadtoRuin, votehermione **and the anonymous **Tina.** Also, thanks to those who added the story to their favorites or to their alert list. I love knowing that someone is interested reading what I have to say. Sadly, I do not own Draco or the rest of the Harry Potter gang. I have to relinquish that pleasure to the wonderful J.K. Rowling. Just think! Without her, we wouldn't have Draco!

Chapter Four: Goodnight Princess 

_The Princess sings: _

I am the princess up in the tower  
And I dream the whole day thro'  
Of a knight who shall come with a silver spear  
And a waving plume of blue.

I am the princess up in the tower,  
And I dream my dreams by day,  
But sometimes I wake, and my eyes are wet,  
When the dusk is deep and gray.

For the peasant lovers go by beneath,  
I hear them laugh and kiss,  
And I forget my day-dream knight,  
And long for a love like this.

_-Sarah Teasdale, "The Princess in the Tower." _

**Dear Harry,**

**I have settled in. Madame Monfrey's is a quaint little school, nothing like Hogwarts. I haven't detected anything abnormal since I got here. Just a couple of old batty women who decided they wanted to start up a school. There is a town down the road, a wizarding one, though I didn't catch the name. I am hoping it is like Hogsmeade. I miss visiting The Three Broomsticks. I doubt anywhere could compare to Madam Rosmerta's butterbeer. **

**Not only that, but Harry, you won't believe it! Madam Monfrey purchases tickets to the Quidditch games for students. Perhaps we could meet up sometime. I am looking forward to them AND classes tomorrow. I won't get my schedule till then. **

**Oh, I forgot to mention. The other student they chose from Hogwarts… Draco Malfoy. I know what you're thinking. How did that snarky evil Slytherin get in? I hope I won't have to put up with him in classes. I met a lovely girl from Beauxbatons. Her name is Camille. I hope I get my class with her. She is very vibrant with tons of energy, yet somehow calm and soothing. What a contradiction! **

**I am glad you convinced me to come. Anyway, I will write later. Don't forget to respond. **

**Love, **

**Hermione**

Hermione folded the letter, placing a wax seal on the crease. She sighed, glancing around the room that had been given to her. It was, like the school that housed it, a quaint little section of the building. It had an oaken bed set against the left wall, rather sizable compared to the old Hogwarts ones. It was covered in a fluffy floral coverlet with matching pillows. Against the far wall, under the window, a matching desk was situated so it gained the most use of the sunlight. It was stocked with a quill, ink and a few blank parchments.

Other than a dresser and an end table, the room was basically empty. Her trunk had been placed at the end of the bed, waiting to be unpacked. Crookshanks watched her with curious eyes as she rose from her spot in front of the desk.

"I guess this is home now, Crooks." She gave her cat a scratch between the ears, smiling when the sound of his purring reached hers. "I know you could get used to that down comforter couldn't you," Hermione teased, smoothing her hand along his fur.

Bending down, she unlatched her trunk and threw it open. "Classes start tomorrow and another year full of homework. I don't believe how much I missed the stress of work." Hermione laughed, shaking her brown locks. Pulling her robes from the chest, she spread them out over her bed. Staring at them, she recalled her first year at Hogwarts. She had been so proud of that patch on her robe. A tiny stencil of thread sewn onto a piece of cloth – so couldn't have worn anything as stately as she worn that crest.

The letter crinkled in her jacket pocket as she lowered her arms back to her side. "Oh, right," she murmured, fiddling the tiny piece of parchment. "I'll be right back Crooks. I have to send this to Harry." She left her room, wondering down the hall all the while taking in the delightful new surroundings.

Though Madam Monfrey's didn't appear to have many surprises, Hermione could feel the magic circulating through the villa. She smiled at the portraits as she passed; receiving friendly "how do you do"s from several ladies that surrounded a table set for tea.

Finding herself at the bottom of the stairs, she glanced down the left hall in search of the Owlery. "Are you looking for something, child?" The seemingly arid voice of Madam Elda interrupted Hermione's private thoughts, sending her jumping slightly.

"Oh, sorry, Ma'am. You startled me." Hermione had turned quickly, hand grasping her beating heart. "Yes, actually I was searching for the Owlery, to send a letter."

"Straight down that hall," Elda pointed a finger down the hall that Hermione had been peeking into. "You will also find a small library down there. I know the voracity with which you conquered the books at Hogwarts." Elda smiled, before making her way up the stairs in a painfully slow manner.

Hermione watched the instructor momentarily before venturing down the candle-lighted hallway. It was longer than she expected, but sure enough, toward the end she could hear the chirping and screeching of the owls. Pushing open the door, she groaned at the sight.

Draco Malfoy stood in the center of the room, petting a dark black owl. His back was turned to her and it would seem as if he hadn't noticed her yet. Hermione took a few moments to take in her adversary. He had trimmed his hair, she noted. He was tall, much taller than she remembered him from Hogwarts. However knowing that they had only been apart about a half a year, it was almost implausible that Draco Malfoy could have had any drastic transformation.

"Would you like something, Granger?" Draco's voice cut through the silence causing Hermione's eyes to widen in alarm. Draco turned around, piercing grey eyes narrowed on her tiny form. "Do you have any business in here or have you come simply to stare at my ass?"

Hermione fought down the blush that tempted to cover her cheeks. Draco Malfoy was never someone she liked to be alone with, especially in a room as cramped as the Owlery. "I'll have you know, Malfoy, that though you may think your god's gift to woman… you have no affect over me."

"I'm heartbroken," he gasped, lowering his bird to its perch, stealthily slipping a letter from its leg. "All my life, I have dreamed of being your soul mate…" He pulled his leather handling glove off as he walked toward her. "And now, all my hopes are shattered." His voice dripped with sarcasm as he stopped directly in front of her. He was so close she could smell the mint on his breath. This was what he lived for. He lived to torture her and he enjoyed it.

"Oh, sod off Malfoy." She shoved him away from her, brushing past him to a brown barn owl.

Draco stumbled backward before catching his footing. "I think I shall enjoy our little year together, Mudblood. You without your posse to watch your back." He smirked, clicking his tongue. "What ever will you do?"

Hermione refused to respond to his little threat. She knew he was egging her on, trying to get a rise out of her. She wanted nothing more than to slap him again. She reveled in the feeling of her hand coming in contact with his cheek, sending sparks of pain through his face.

Behind her, she heard the door open and slam. It was obvious he had left her in peace. Latching the letter to the owl's leg, she saw it off with a tiny treat. "Fly safely," she murmured as the owl took flight from the window.

-

The Dining Hall contained two tables, one for the students and one for the teachers. Each table was set to hold six occupants. Hermione's table was full, however the teachers, she noted, was not. A spot was reserved for another professor who was obviously not joining them for dinner. Hermione had managed to arrive early enough that she made sure she did not have to sit next to Malfoy.

Unfortunately, being that they were sitting at a round table, she did have to stare at him all through dinner.

As soon as everyone had arrived, a heavy-set woman stood from the teacher's table. "I am Madam Monfrey." She had a soft, cultured voice that seemed to whisper in-between each student and demand attention. "I would personally like to welcome all of you here and to hope the journey was safe. I would like you all to take this time to become acquainted with your fellow students, as you will meet all of your teachers tomorrow. With that said, please enjoy dinner."

Similar to Hogwarts, the food appeared as soon as she lowered herself back into her seat.

Hermione's eyes widened at the quantity. She had almost forgotten how overwhelming it could all be.

"I am Camille," the girl to Hermione's right spoke up as she placed a piece of bread on her plate. Though Hermione had met her earlier that day, she didn't fully get a chance to examine her. "From Beauxbatons in France," Camille elaborated. Hermione took in her appearance, sleek and beautiful. She had blonde hair falling in soft ringlets to her shoulder, nothing like Hermione's frizz. Her eyes were a light approachable blue that sucked a person in the moment he or she saw them.

"And I'm Sibyl," Hermione turned to her left, focusing on the only other female student. The girl strangely reminded her of Luna with the dreamy quality of her face. "Also from Beauxbatons," she smiled at the table, pale eyes avoiding Draco's.

It didn't take long for the male students to introduce themselves as Geir and Taber from Durmstrang. Both had dark hair and even darker eyes, a sharp contrast to Draco's soft features.

These were the elite chosen few. The best and the brightest from their respected school. Hermione was honored to be among them, though she would have preferred that Malfoy had not. She glared at him across the table, completely aware of the tension between them.

"Hermione, here, is a Mudblood." Draco nodded in her direction, eyes twinkling with mirth. Sibyl flinched at the harsh term applied to Hermione's ancestry. "I hear they don't allow those at Durmstrang." He turned his head, awaiting an answer from either male student.

"No, they don't." Taber spoke up, his dark stare seemingly boring into Hermione's stiff form. "However, if she is qualified to be here, sitting at this table with me… then I see no reason to mock her for her abnormalities. Who can, after all, chose their parents?"

Draco frowned, not expecting the response he was given. "Very nicely put, I suppose." He conceded the argument for the moment, but the look in his eyes told Hermione that she had not heard all she would hear on the subject.

Dinner dwindled into the night. She made friends quickly with the girls quickly. Taber and Geir took a little longer to warm up to her. However as dinner began to wrap up, it was only Draco Malfoy who still seemed to despise her and simply for the blood that ran through her veins.

Hermione returned to her room alone, fuming internally the entire way. She couldn't believe the nerve of that boy – for that was all he would ever be in her eyes. He still couldn't swallow his pride and accept that being Muggle-born wasn't bad. It wasn't a sin. It infuriated her that he could mock her, whereas she could only call him a prat. What would she taunt him for – his pureblood, his hideousness? She knew herself that he was far from hideous and his pureblood wasn't something to be ashamed of.

Hermione roughly jerked on her doorknob, anger surging. She nearly snapped when Draco's soft voice broke into her thoughts, "Goodnight Princess." His voice was tainted with sarcasm as he entered his own room. Grey eyes glinting to silver as he passed under the candlelight.

As Hermione crossed the threshold into her room, her thoughts were murderous. She flung off her outfit, slipping into her pajamas. All she could do was hope that he wasn't in any of her classes tomorrow.

It wasn't long after Hermione had curled into bed that she had drifted off to sleep. Her exhaustion allowed dreams to take over.

_They were gathered around the fire, all laughing and smiling. There were seven knights that had pledged their loyalty to Hermione. Seven out of hundreds. The odds were not in her favor. A graceful smile lingered on her rosy lips as she glanced around at the others around her. An evil man had usurped her and the knights that surrounded her were the only ones that could see this. _

_The man next to her sensed her discomfort and placed a warm hand over hers. Hermione raised relieved eyes to her knight, catching the soft flicker of silver in his irises. "Thank you," she murmured._

_"I know you need someone to lean on, my queen. I want you to know that I am always here for a helping hand and…" he voice faded into the darkness, leaving the sentence unfinished. _

_Hermione wanted to pressure him for a finish to his statement but before she could a man across the fire began whispering harshly. "Douse the fire, cover and protect the queen – I see lights coming this way." _

_The comforting hand that covered hers slipped away as her knight rose to his feet, hand straying toward his sword. "Into the woods, my lady." He ordered, voice stern. _

"_But I cannot leave you-"_

_He interrupted before she could finish the sentence, "Hermione!" Noting the hurt look in her eyes, he finished softly, "please, I cannot protect you here. Go into the woods, I will follow shortly. Gabriel, go with her."_

_Hermione did as she was told. However, she caught one last look at her knight before Gabriel drug her away. He unsheathed his sword, standing bravely despite the fact that the entire world seemed against them. In the darkness, she saw the approaching lights and prayed._

Hermione woke in a cold sweat, pellets of perspiration dripping from her forehead and soaking her hair. It had been the second dream of similar occurrences. What did they mean? She collapsed back onto her bed, fingers running through her tangled locks.

Rolling her head to the side, she caught glimpses of the sun peaking through the curtains. It was time to get up. She felt as if she hadn't slept a wink. However, she pulled herself from the bed, excited to get back into classes.

It didn't take long for Hermione to get dressed being that she didn't have to fight over the bathroom. She had her own personal one tucked away behind a door in the corner of her room. Slipping her robe over her outfit, she was suddenly hit with a violent gust of cold air. Noting that it wasn't winter and the window was closed, a chill racked Hermione's body. Slowly, she turned around.

A phantom stood before her, seemingly soaked. Water dripped onto the carpet, seeping toward Hermione's feet. Her dress was covered in algae and weeds. Despite all these, the face underneath was deathly beautiful. A ghostly hand reached toward her, fingers wizened and spiny.

Hermione stepped backward, tumbling into her trunk. Her eyes closed as she began her descent, wincing as she knocked her elbow on the edge of her trunk. When she opened her eyes, the ghost was gone, as were the phantom water stains.

_What is going on here?_

**Author's ending note: **Hope you liked it. Classes start next chapter. How many secrets and strange occurrences are already haunting Hermione. Not to mention Draco Malfoy, whatever will she do?

Much more to come later… secrets hidden in the school, in the teachers, in the hearts of students… hint hint

Oh, yeah, comment and tell me what you think of it. I feel like the story isn't getting any love. By the way, if you haven't noticed, I revised the first chapter. I added in some elaboration on some scenes. Check it out if you haven't.

Much love,

M.R.


	5. Anemone for Forsaken

Author's note and disclaimer: I do not own anything nor do I claim to. I would like to thank my reviewers **junsui, Eve Granger **and the anonymous **Tina**. Thank you for the support, it means a lot to me. I hope you enjoy this next chapter. I know I enjoyed writing it.

Chapter Five: Anemone for Forsaken

_I've slept so long without you  
It's tearing me apart too  
How'd it get this far  
Playing games with this old heart  
**I've killed a million petty souls  
But I couldn't kill you** _

I've slept so long without you  
I see hell in your eyes  
–Jay Gordon

It was warm here; he sensed it in his bones. Here, he was safe and even protected from the outside forces. He didn't even feel this secure snuggled in his blanket at Hogwarts. Draco was so content tucked inside his ball of heat that he could hardly pull himself from his stupor to begin to get ready for classes. Sighing, he pushed away the covers and the precious warmth was ripped away from his body.

Standing in the middle of the plush carpet that covered the wooden floor, he felt bare. Eyeing the bed behind him, he debated snuggling back inside its protective shell. However, he didn't. He slipped past the bed and into the bathroom.

Climbing inside the shower, he turned on the water and let it cascade down his back in steamy rivulets. His hands clenched at the porcelain tiles lining the shower wall as he watched the water slip from his pale blonde hair to spiral down the drain. Grey eyes slowly moved from the maelstrom of water to his forearms. He could see the muscles strain and push against his skin. The Dark Mark stretched and its hideous mouth appeared to be torn open, snake thrusting his way out in sinister curls.

Draco scoffed. _A pawn, _he thought, _that's all I am. _He shut off the water, stepping from the shower. He cast a drying spell, clearing all the droplets from his body. He slipped his robes on and grabbed his supplies. Exiting his room, he began his descent to the dining hall. However, a sudden _eeep _and a crash caused him to pause momentarily and glance back with furrowed eyebrows at Granger's door. _What on earth was she doing in there? Aerobics? _Draco honestly didn't think it would help. Snickering to himself at his snide thought, he turned and continued his way down the stairs.

_The first day. _Draco would have called the uneasiness that settled in his stomach nerves, if he had not been Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius. As it were, a Malfoy doesn't get first day jitters and he blamed it simply on last nights dinner. He made his way into the Dining Room, only to find that all the students had already arrived, except Hermione Granger.

He settled into his seat, chuckling. It would, of course, be Hermione Granger who would be late on the first day. Just as the thought crossed his mind, she tore into the room. Draco noted, with mild interest, that she was entirely too pale. Her huge brown eyes and dark lashes stood out in sharp contrast with her cheeks.

"What's wrong Granger? See a ghost?" Draco's sarcastic remark earned him a biting glare that would have sent shivers through a lesser mortal. However, it was simply returned with his usual Slytherin smirk.

Madam Monfrey cleared her throat. "Students, I have in my hand both your schedule and a map of the grounds. Several rooms and areas are off limits to students; they are the ones that are colored gray. Please, out of respect, take heed to my warnings. This is, after all, my home I am sharing with all of you."

Madam Monfrey began to pass out the schedules. Draco watched her with a cool gaze as she steadily moved closer to him. When he received his, he let out a tiny groan and peered across the table at Hermione. Though thankfully he had not received all day with her, three class periods were way too much of Hermione Granger than he had hoped for. His schedule read as follows:

_Astronomy (Madam Sala) with Hermione Granger_

_Herbology (Madam Nasia) with Hermione Granger_

_Care of Magical Creatures (Madam Lala) with Camille Moreau_

_Defense Against the Dark Arts (Madam Kerri) with Hermione Granger_

_Charms (Madam Dulcina) with Sybil Dubose _

_Potions (Madam Elda) with Taber Farkas _

"You are dismissed, students. Enjoy the rest of your day and classes." Madam Monfrey waved her hands in a flourish, leaving from the Dining hall. As the rest of the students dispersed, Draco moved over to Hermione.

"I shall enjoy seeing you every morning, Granger." Draco's voice came out in a purr as he circled around her like prey. Although the sentence could have been kind, from Draco Malfoy's mouth it was tainted with a poison. Draco smirked, leaving her standing alone in the room. "Don't be late, Mudblood."

-

Draco's first class went by relatively fast. Hermione ignored him and he ignored her. Madam Sala chatted on and on, seemingly about nothing. Draco chose not to listen to her and instead stared out the window at the passing clouds.

While, Hermione was, as usual, a bundle full of questions. Draco slowly listen to the time tick away, hands lightly patting the wooden table. The Astronomy room was small with a huge window open to the outside sky. A closed and unlabeled door was located in the back left of the room. It piqued his curiosity but not enough to ask about it. Draco skimmed the rest of the tiny space, noting a bookshelf filled to the brim with texts and parchments. Other than that the area was empty.

He felt like the school lacked something, spirit perhaps. It was… unfinished. A sudden pain surged through his arm, causing him to flinch and grip his forearm tightly. _What? Does the unfinished school interest you? _He cursed the Dark Lord, arm muscle twitching from the sudden contraction.

"Mr. Malfoy, is there something wrong?" Madam Sala eyed him, green eyes tinged with worry.

He wanted to yell at her. _Yes! There is something wrong! I have Lord Voldemort living in my brain, reading my thoughts at will. _However, he calmed himself, replying, "No, I'm perfectly alright, just a muscle spasm."

Her worry disappeared, replaced by doubt. Somewhere, inside his core, he knew that she knew his secret. Whether she was unsure or didn't want to believe, in her subconscious she knew exactly what he was.

"I see. Well, in that case, I hope it feels better. We shall start refreshing tomorrow. Get some sleep tonight; your first project will be coming up shortly." With that said, Madam Sale dismissed the students for their next class.

Draco looked at the map, seeking out the Herbology area. "It's outside by the orchard," he commented. However upon receiving no reply, he looked up. Hermione was already off in the correct direction, completely ignoring him. "Of course, Granger would have the whole school memorized on the first day." He trotted behind her, catching up quickly.

He walked silently, moving slightly ahead of her. Reaching the orchard, he inhaled the spicy scent of apples. The orchard appeared to stretch on for miles, disappearing over a hill. A tall shrub ran along beside it, separating property lines. He followed Hermione to the Herbology green house, scanning the woods that it stood in front of. Slightly to the right of the green house, a tree he recognized from Hogwarts Herbology class sat alone among the maples and oaks. It was a gothic shape, spiny fingers jabbing into the trees that surround it. At the foot of the tree, he thought he faintly saw a white cat, yawning widely. When he blinked it was gone, and he chalked it up to the fog that seemed to be swirling in from the north.

_A yew tree, _he recalled, eyes strangely drawn to the beautiful tree. Hermione's voice sliced into his thoughts, "Malfoy, are you coming?" It was then that Draco realized he had completely stopped in his journey to Herbology.

"Oh, yes," he jogged the rest of the way to the green house.

"A beautiful sight, isn't it," Hermione asked him when he reached the door. She too was staring at the edge of the woods, framed by the massive sky with white mountains of clouds peeking over the tops of the large oaks. "I'm sure it looks marvelous at night."

Draco grumbled his reply as he brushed past her to the entrance of the green house. However, he couldn't help over hearing her mumbled words, "_And the message of the yew tree is blackness – blackness and silence." _

It was a few seconds later that Hermione followed behind him. He could feel her eyes on his back, watching him as he moved through the rows of plants.

"Hello students." The voice was a velvety whisper tickling over his every sense. It seemed to penetrate into his being, twining on some inner chord. Never had he felt anything like it. He was drawn into it, searching desperately for the speaker. Faintly, Draco heard Hermione gasp but it was trivial to him. He needed to know who was speaking, _calling _to him.

From the shadows of the plants, a woman stepped into their view. "I am Madam Nasia," she murmured. Her moon-colored eyes watched them with intense pleasure, noting how the students took in her appearance. Raven ringlets cascaded to her waist framing a perfect porcelain face. Her burgundy cloak relinquished a pale hand with black fingernails. "I see you were admiring the yew tree. It has been here longer than I."

"And how long might that be?" Hermione questioned, snapping Draco from his revere once again.

A laugh tinkled from the woman's mouth, echoing pleasantly about the tiny space. "I see you have touched upon my weakness, Miss Granger. I assure you that I mean you no harm. I am simply here to teach you Herbology. The science of ages."

"A vampire," Draco mumbled, eyebrows furrowing. Having never come face to face with one, he was completely thrown off by the affect it seemed to have on him. "We are learning about plants from a _vampire_?"

Madam Nasia laughed once more. "Who else to teach you but someone who has spent time with Chinese monks, practicing the very art. I have seen it do miracles." She turned, cloak fluttering behind her. "Come along, we will be working behind the green house today. We will simply get our hands dirty. Allow the two of you to reconnect with the earth, especially you." Her eyes floated to Hermione, briefly to her feet.

Draco watched the odd exchange between Hermione and Madam Nasia, confusion evident on his face. _Reconnect with the earth? _He followed the professor from the green house, behind it rows of unused dirt lay ahead of them. Nasia pulled two packages from her pocket; one was a package of anemone and the other peonies. "We will plant these. Two simple muggle plants shouldn't give us much difficulty." She handed each a packet. Sweeping her cloak from around her knees, she knelt in the dirt. "It is always good to test the soil. The dark black of this dirt makes it clear to us that the soil is plentiful in nutrients. Take some in your hand," she looked pointedly at Hermione and watched as the girl scooped the dirt into her hands.

"Squeeze it and feel the moisture." The vampire sniffed at the dirt, smile forming across her beautiful features. "We have wonderful soil here. Perfect for planting."

Hermione poked her finger in the ground, placing a seed into the hole and covering it up. Draco mimicked her actions, slightly angered at being forced to kneel in the dirt. Though Hermione may need to do some reconnecting, he felt for sure that he shouldn't be reacquired to resort to some gardener. His father had servants who did the work they were doing now.

Draco didn't recall ever rolling around in the dirt during Professor Sprout's class. In fact, he remembered that they never left the green house during classes. They never worked with muggle flowers either. His father wouldn't appreciate this much. At that thought, Draco scoffed. Why should he care what his father thought? When had he ever?

He paused, seed hanging just above the hole. Of course, he cared what his father thought. If he hadn't, he wouldn't have come. Strangely, Draco recalled the burning sensation the night the Dark Mark was branded on his arm.

"Yes, that goes in there, Malfoy." Hermione was staring at him, one eyebrow raised. As soon as he let the seed fall, she shook her head. "Ron, Harry and I knew you weren't right. Wait till they hear about this."

Draco's eyes went cold, sending a shiver through Hermione. "You wouldn't dare." His body had tensed, muscles tightening. "If you do-" the threat died on his lips as he noticed that Madam Nasia was watching them quietly. Draco stood, brushing the dirt from his hands. He threw the bag of anemone to the ground, sending them scattering across the ground. "Excuse me, I would like to be dismissed." Without waiting for a response from Madam Nasia, Draco turned around and stormed back inside the green house to gather his things.

Madam Nasia shook her head, "Poor boy, he doesn't know yet."

Hermione raised her eyes to her professor's strange silver eyes, confusion evident on her face. "Doesn't know?"

"I'm sorry Miss Granger, I didn't hear you." Madam Nasia continued to gather the anemone seeds, waiting for Hermione to repeat her question.

"What doesn't he know?" Hermione asked again.

"Oh," Madam Nasia looked up, placing the last seed back in its rightful place. "Nothing, my dear. Nothing."

-

The stars were bright that night. The moon hung by a mere hook in the sky. The think crescent barely seemed substantial enough to be able to float, bubble-like, through the nighttime sky. The clouds raced past the moon, giving it the appearance of accelerated movement.

He lounged against one of the apple trees, inhaling their aroma. He eyed the spiny limbs, falling into a state of relaxation. He belonged here, surrounded by a symbol of sin. After all he had done, he deserved the fall. He let his mind wonder.

The year was going to be interesting. He could feel it already in his bones. He knew that Madam Monfrey's had many surprises in store for him. If only he could see them before they jumped out at him. After all, he never really liked surprises.

The past seemed to meld here. The trees ruffled as a swift wind rushed by. Draco began to doze off. He could hear the pounding of footsteps beating in time with his heart. Her perfume reached him before she did, sweet smelling magnolia overtaking his senses. Through the trees, he could see her willowy form, shrouded in shadows. Long cascades of brown hair held back with a golden comb designed to look like ivy.

"I've been waiting for you to come back to me…" Her voice poured over him like water, sadness running thick. He wanted to go to her, but his body was leaden. "They took my body… but not my soul." The words seemed meant to comfort. "I knew you would go to avenge me…" She jerked her head, looking through the shadows as if she had seen something. Slowly, she faded away.

Draco shook himself awake, shivering as the cold air registered. "What was that?' He murmured, rising to his feet.

"Who's there?' He heard through the darkness. He recognized the voice instantly: Granger.

"Don't worry, Granger. It's just me." He maneuvered around the tree, revealing himself to her. "What are you doing out past your bedtime?"

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, features defiant. "I could ask you the same thing."

Draco sauntered up to her, fingering her brown curls. "Oh, Granger, always so defensive. I was simply enjoying the night air. I wasn't plotting murderers, conjuring demons, contacting the Dark Lord, or any other activities of the such… contrary to popular belief."

Hermione smacked his hand away, disgust apparent. "Why are you so evil, Malfoy?"

Shrugging, Draco raised his eyes to hers. "It's easier to be evil." He said the words simply, as if they meant nothing. The apple-scented wind rushed past them, blowing Hermione's hair into her face. Briefly, Draco once again caught the scent of magnolias.

"Do you enjoy it?" Hermione questioned.

"You're not my psychiatrist, Mudblood." He pushed past her, heading back toward the school. "Besides, you can't save me… if that's what you are trying to do."

Hermione watched his back disappear through the haze of fog that was rising. She sighed, hanging her head. No, she couldn't. Draco Malfoy was too far-gone.

-

**Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed the chapter. We are moving right along, aren't we? **

**What does Madam Nasia mean? What about Draco's dream? Oh, interesting plot bunnies are running through my head. **

**Review and tell me what you think. I would love to hear how all my chapters are being interpreted. **

Yew: symbol for death and resurrection.

Apple: symbol of sin, temptation, fall of man

Anemone: forsaken

Peony: happiness

_And the message of the yew tree is blackness – blackness and silence : _a line from Sylvia Plath's poem, "The Moon and the Yew Tree"-

This is the light of the mind, cold and planetary  
The trees of the mind are black. The light is blue.  
The grasses unload their griefs on my feet as if I were God  
Prickling my ankles and murmuring of their humility  
Fumy, spirituous mists inhabit this place.  
Separated from my house by a row of headstones.  
I simply cannot see where there is to get to.

The moon is no door. It is a face in its own right,  
White as a knuckle and terribly upset.  
It drags the sea after it like a dark crime; it is quiet  
With the O-gape of complete despair. I live here.  
Twice on Sunday, the bells startle the sky --  
Eight great tongues affirming the Resurrection  
At the end, they soberly bong out their names.

The yew tree points up, it has a Gothic shape.  
The eyes lift after it and find the moon.  
The moon is my mother. She is not sweet like Mary.  
Her blue garments unloose small bats and owls.  
How I would like to believe in tenderness -  
The face of the effigy, gentled by candles,  
Bending, on me in particular, its mild eyes.

I have fallen a long way. Clouds are flowering  
Blue and mystical over the face of the stars  
Inside the church, the saints will all be blue,  
Floating on their delicate feet over the cold pews,  
Their hands and faces stiff with holiness.  
The moon sees nothing of this. She is bald and wild.  
And the message of the yew tree is blackness - blackness and silence.

**Review please. It doesn't take much to click that little button in the corner. I love hearing from you all. It really makes my day.**

**Much love,**

**M.R.**


	6. Air of Destiny

Author's Note and Disclaimer: Sorry this one was so long in coming. I do not own Harry Potter. The lucky and wonderful J.K. Rowling has those rights. Speaking of, the new title has been announced – Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. The quote I can't really say had much significance… but I just love that quote!

**Chapter Six: Air of Destiny **

_Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world  
Like a Colossus, and we petty men  
Walk under his huge legs and peep about  
To find ourselves dishonourable graves.  
Men at some time are masters of their fates:  
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,  
But in ourselves, that we are underlings._

_- Cassius from Julius Caesar_

_Creak - _Hermione eyed the chair with disdain as the loud racket split the silence of the library. It was well past midnight and Hermione didn't wish to wake any of the others. She was up with insomnia, too scared to go back to sleep. Her dreams- _or nightmares _– haunted her, quick scenes that raised her heart rate and caused bile build in her throat.

Hermione remembered vividly the voiceless wail that had been ripped from her stomach when she saw the man in her dreams, her knight, nearly mortally wounded. She had felt like her heart might explode, even after she had waken the feeling still lingered. Deciding that she wanted to know the history of the School, she had set off for the library.

The books were piled high in front of her, dusty archives awaiting her quiet eyes. However, hardly any she soon found out, referred to the mysterious Madam Monfrey's Finishing School. _Wizarding Academies _bluntly laid out every nook and cranny of Hogwarts, Durmstrang and Beauxbatons but Monfrey's was left out. It even had detailed records of some of the most famous Professors ever to teach there.

After that, _Britain's Magical Mansions, Beginnings of Great Wizards, _and many more all deemed fruitless. She didn't even find a line. Not the most meager of mentions. Hermione let her head fall onto the wooden table with a resounding thud. She emitted a small sneeze as the dust whisked across her face, "Nothing." Her voice echoed in the small room pathetically.

"I've already looked."

Hermione spun around, nearly losing her balance on the chair. The book in front of her –_ Modern Magical Estates – _crashed to the floor. Grey eyes sparkled at her from the shadow of the doorframe, sinister frame thrown in shadow by the torchlight in the hallway. "What are you doing up, Malfoy?"

"I couldn't sleep." He wondered into the library, plopping down across the circular table from her. Fingering a piece of parchment, he commented, "I trust that is the same reason you are down here? Or is it that the almighty Granger never sleeps?"

Letting out an indignant huff, she pulled her hair into a messy bun. Her eyes never left his as she set about straightening the mess of books. "I was just doing a little light reading…"

Draco's scoffed, eyes scanning over the mountainous pile. "Light would be an understatement." He pulled a book down, blowing the dust off the cover. "Besides, I know what you're doing. You're looking up this school." He raised his gaze, focusing in on her petite form, taking her in. "I know because I've already done it."

His intense scrutiny of her form caused a small blush to appear on the edge of her cheeks. "Isn't it weird, then?" She asked, suddenly ignoring the fact that he was her archenemy. "Nothing… there isn't a single line about Monfrey in any of these."

"It's cause the school is a waste. We are here doing nothing… Planting a little, astronomy class yesterday was a joke." He clamped his mouth shut, narrowing his eyes at her. "However, a mudblood, like _yourself, _wouldn't realize such trivialities. I bet you haven't even noticed that every spell we've mentioned so far has been a review."

Hermione turned her head to the side, "I have noticed. Maybe there is more to meets the eye…" Hermione wanted to mention her strange dreams and ghost that keep tormenting her… however she remained silent. It was Malfoy, after all. She didn't want him running back to Voldemort with secrets and weaknesses.

Suddenly, Draco was on his feet, chair clambering to the ground behind him. His eyes were not focused on her, however. They seemed to look through her as if something existed beyond the bookshelves and candlesticks. After a few moments, he shook his head and dashed from the room.

Hermione's gaze followed his retreating back. _Yes, there is far more than meets the eye here… _She thought to herself, closing the last book.

-

**Dearest Hermione,**

**I just got your letter a few moments ago. I wanted to let you know that everything is going fine here at the Ministry. Ron thinks himself in love with the new secretary… Other than that, all is normal. It would seem that Voldemort has decided to lay low for the time being. **

**Speaking of, I want you to watch out for Malfoy. His father is out of Azkaban now, pardoned. Can you believe it? It is guaranteed that he is a Death Eater and we let him go. I'm sorely disappointed in the Ministry for that decision. **

**I talked to an old friend of yours the other day- Krum. As you know, he's retired from the Quidditch fields. Now, he's in the Ministry as an Auror. He makes a good one too. **

**Send an owl when you go to that Quidditch match. Also, hope you enjoy the book I enclosed.**

**Love,**

**Harry**

**P.S: I miss you, 'Mione – love Ron.**

Hermione folded the letter, smile lingering over her features. What a crazy duo those two made. She missed Ron and Harry more than anything. They had been inseparable for the past seven years. Now, she longed to hear their laughter and voices.

She pulled the book from the envelope, curiosity getting to her. It was beautiful. Her fingers slid over its leather covering, feeling the intricate inlays beneath her fingertips. In gilded gold _The Wizards of Our Age _scrawled magnificently in the middle of the patterns. She flipped it open, scanning the table of contents. All of the famous wizards were laid out in tiny twelve-point font – _Albus Dumbledore, Tom Riddle, _and even _Gilderoy Lockhart. _

Confused, Hermione mumbled, "Why would he send me this?"

Then at the bottom of the page, surrounded by wondrous inventors, saviors and evildoers was Madam Monfrey's name. Matilda Monfrey born 1953- . Hermione mouth fell open as she quickly opened to the designated page.

Madam Matilda Monfrey 

_Born 1953_

_Raised by her parents in Ireland, Matilda grew up on a quaint country farm. After attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizarding, at which she graduated top of her class, Monfrey moved on to become an Auror. _

_During her prime, Azkaban filled numerous cells with her captures. However, an Auror's life is rarely long. Though it was not her own death that took its toll on the great Auror. Lord Voldemort killed her husband, the late Siarbe Monfrey. _

_After his death, she retired from the Ministry. Little is known about her life afterwards, except her known acquaintance with Hogwarts current Headmaster Dumbledore. _

Madam Monfrey harbored a grudge against the Dark Lord. Hermione paused briefly after the thought crossed her mind. She shook it away with a faint sardonic smile, after all who didn't harbor a grudge?

Noting the time, she realized that she was late for Defense against the Dark Arts. She shoved the book into her backpack, rushing for her bedroom door. However, she collided with something hard and warm, sending her sprawling toward the floor. Strong hands grabbed her arms, securing her feet from the floor. Steel grey eyes watched her from behind a wisp of platinum hair.

"Maybe you should watch where you were going, Granger." The coarse voice flowed over Hermione.

"Maybe you should mind your own business, Malfoy." She snapped, adding as an after though, "And keep your grimy hands to yourself."

"As you like it," she said and the words came out clipped. His fingers unwound from her biceps, letting her tumble unceremoniously to the floor.

Hermione huffed, pushing herself to her feet. "You… You… arrogant, egotistical rich boy."

Draco raised an eyebrow, smile playing across his charming visage. "Is that what you think of me, Granger? Well, I'm heartbroken." He clasped his chest as if his heart was attempting to burst from his chest. Chuckling to himself, he began to meander down the hallway toward Madam Kerri's classroom.

"Draco Malfoy, do _not_ mock me." She stomped after him. Rage caused her cheeks to become a deep shade of magenta, fist shaking at her sides. Why did that boy always get a rise out of her?

"I wouldn't dream off it. After all, you might hurt me." He cast the remark over his shoulder. For some reason, he was in a delightfully playful mood. Perhaps it was his father's letter that had put him in such high spirits. The letter was a praise of his dutiful notes and a dismissal from the next few Death Eater meetings.

Before she could respond, Draco pushed open the door to the classroom. The teacher's stern gaze from her desk silenced any remark that was boiling in Hermione. They both respectfully lowered themselves in their chairs, waiting silently for Madam Kerri to begin.

"Power corrupts," she said blandly from where she was sitting. After giving the quill tip a few sharp taps on her desk, Madam Kerri rose to her feet. She eyed the two with deep blue eyes as if searching for some corruptive force inside them. "Look at all the famous ones – Voldemort, Oda Nobunaga, Macbeth, Brutus."

Draco's eyes were narrowed in confusion. "Macbeth?"

"You've never read Shakespeare?" Hermione asked, aghast.

"Some muggle writer," Draco glanced at her from the corner of his eyes. "Hardly."

"Then perhaps you should," Kerri interjected before a fight could begin between the two students. "Perhaps you should read it and tell me why power corrupts. Plus, you would be broadening you horizons. You can't live your whole life in some shell, my dear boy."

"My future will not require the knowledge of _some _famous muggle," Draco snapped.

"How do you know that?" Kerri swooped down on his, planting her hands on the table in front of him. "How can you know what you will be? Is it marked on you somewhere – your destiny? Your future?"

Draco flinched at the words, averting his eyes. He couldn't tell her how true they were. For some reason, he felt as if the teachers here knew more than they let on. Instead, his eyes landed on Hermione. Her bright brown eyes studied him, pale hands clenching and releasing her quill in what could only be a nervous habit.

"Perhaps, Hermione could help you with it Draco. Shakespeare is hard for beginners." Kerri moved away from their desk, startling both from their trance.

"I suppose I could, if of course, he accepts." Hermione said softly, somewhat unsure.

"I'll think about it," he said, words holding a biting edge.

-

Outside, the yew tree waved gently in the breeze. Spiny branches bending and swaying beneath the mighty push of the wind. A faint voice called through the leaves, seeming to echo with ancient chants.

Evil was stirring. However, the magic that swirled around Monfrey's could not rightly be labeled so. It held an air of hope, of purpose… of destiny.

**Author's Note: The end of this chapter. Hope you like it. I know it sounds rushed… I've had writer's block and Final Fantasy XII and Fable. You know how it is… I'm sorry for leaving all you guys hanging. **

**More Draco and Hermione goodness planned for next chapter. **

**Hope you enjoy. **


	7. You know who I am

Author's Note: God, I miss writing. I've been swamped with schoolwork and reports, tests and migraines. I hate growing up. School only gets harder and then there's work… but on to the important stuff right. I don't own Harry Potter or Draco and Hermione.

_**Chapter Seven: You know who I am**_

**Shall I say what moves me? **

**Where the mirror tells its tale**

**A thousand, flitting expressions**

**Are briefly shadow impaled.**

**But the written word must speak for**

**My hard-to-comprehend mind,**

**And the warm hand of a friendship**

**Midst letters bend to find.**

**A hundred conversations**

**From a dozen words must show,**

**Withal warm confirmation**

**That strengthens, says: "'tis so".**

**-Shadow World by John McNeil**

**-**

_The weekend-_ Draco inhaled the scent of his momentary freedom. No classes, no teachers, no… However, the thought died off when he realized foggy memory of Macbeth lingering over his head. He had completely forgotten about that stupid project.

Why did he care whether some muggle got a taste of old-fashioned power? Why did he care what Shapeskear or whatever thought? He didn't.

Draco snorted as he shoved on his black pants. Glancing at his watch, he noted that it was past noon. He had promised Hermione that he would meet her in the library at 11:30. Running a hand through his soft locks, he three on a black t-shirt. Making his way to the door, he froze, hand outstretched for the hand.

Insidiously, a gaping skull glared up at him from his bare arm. The wicked tattoo tormented him as he flexed his muscles in anger. Forever, he will be branded and deemed by his flesh. Draco swung away from the door, ripping a coat from his trunk. His eyes flashed silver as he exhaled a shaky breath. What did it matter what was beneath his skin anyway? Wasn't he just here to die? After all, what did Voldemort, greatest wizard of the time, want with the son of a washed-up Death Eater.

"I have to get these thoughts out of my mind," Draco murmured, exiting his room. He was here for Voldemort and loyal to no one else.

Upon entering the library, he realized that Hermione was in the process of packing up her stuff. "I should have known," she said, nostrils flaring. "When have you ever cared about anyone but yourself. I've been waiting here for an hour! An hour for you. And all you wanted was a few extra minutes of sleep," Hermione briefly glanced up at him as she flung a large tome into her backpack.

Draco bit back the snide remark that was boiling in his stomach. How dare she talk to me like that, a Mudblood? However, he knew how much he needed her help. "Granger… Hermione," the name fell unsteadily from his lips, drawing a grimace. "Look, I need…could you just… stay." He watched her briefly, noting that she relaxed her tense muscles, giving in. "Now, I'll admit that I think I've seen the movie when I was really young. Macbeth- there are witches in there right?"

"Yes," Hermione sighed wearily, pulling her books back out. "How do you think power corrupts,Malfoy?"

Draco lowered himself into the chair in front of her, eyebrows fused together in thought. "Well, I suppose-" his sentence died as he inhaled the perfumed air. It smelled of magnolias. When had he smelled that before? "Are you wearing something?"

Hermione cocked her head to the side, forehead wrinkling. "I'm not sure I'm following." She glanced down at her jeans and shirt.

"No, I mean… perfume, something of that nature." Draco clarified, seemingly exasperated.

"Not that I'm sure how it has anything to do with power and Macbeth, but yes, I am. A body spray."

"Magnolias," he whispered, fingers holding up his head on bended elbow. He shook his head, pushing the orchard out of his mind. He studied her briefly in the late afternoon light. It accentuated the soft curls of blond that wove through her hair. She was staring at him, dumbstruck and uncertain. Briefly, he thought she was going to run and beg Madam Monfrey to ship him to St. Mungo's. "Macbeth… I really think all the power in the play belonged to the three witches. After all, didn't they convince Macbeth to do the evil deed?"

-

The time passed slowly that day as they translated the manuscript. Soon, he was lounging on the sofa watching Hermione read off her favorite lines from the play. He contemplated why he was still lingering around after they had finished the assignment. In his mind, he rationalized that it would be good material for the Dark Lord, chatting up the best friend of the boy who lived.

But, Draco knew the truth.

When was the last time he felt true companionship? Blaise, hardly and Pansy and her peanut-brained friends were barely enough to sate other forms of lust. He enjoyed listening to Hermione, though he hated to admit it. She, at least, could compete with him on some intellectual scale.

He skimmed over her relaxed frame. Her hair was pulled back in the usual messy bun, legs tucked under her with her feet dangling off the side of the chair. A small white crescent shape caught Draco's eye where it hung like the moon on the edge of Hermione's ankle.

"And that's my all time favorite line," Hermione interrupted his thoughts, drawing his attention back to her face.

"Oh, and a very good one it is." Draco intoned quickly, hiding his ignorance.

Hermione watched him for what seemed like hours, scrutinizing every facet of his face. Finally, she turned away. "Malfoy, I don't know why we are here but do you think there is a reason that it is you and me?"

Draco felt the weight in her question, knew that the answer could change the meaning of the past seven years of his life. "A reason…" his eyes raised to her chocolate orbs. He just couldn't bring himself to say it. Swiftly, he jerked himself to his feet, snapping, "unless you count God's indescribable desire to torment me with you, then no."

Hermione's eyes widened, comebacks fumbling like dying fish on her lips. The warmth in her eyes died, leaving only the cold shell Draco remembered from his Hogwarts days. It comforted him because he was used to it. "Very well," she supplied, pulling her backpack onto her shoulders. "If that is how you feel about me, then…"

Leaving her sentence unfinished, she pushed past him and out of the library.

Draco turned back to the empty chair and for a second he could still see her form inhabiting the space. But then, the shape spoke, "Free me…" it bemoaned, words a scream of agony. "It was not our love that did us in… Don't be afraid." The figure rose from the chair, ghostly steps closing in on him.

A cool hand brushed his cheek, light as feathery kiss. He wasn't even sure he actually felt it. "Who are you?" Draco managed to get out past his dry mouth.

"You know who I am. Can't you feel me?" It stepped toward him as if to embrace, but it melded inside him, disappearing.

Draco touched his chest, fingers lingering over his heart. This place was only getting stranger by the second.

**Author's ending note: **

**Nothing real special here… just a little Draco and Hermione action. More to come in the next installment. It should be out sooner than this one. I'm sorry for the delay like I said I've been real busy lately. **

**Thank you for reading and if you have the time, reviews are love. Criticism, good news, pleas, desires… anything, I love it all. **

**Much love,**

**M.R. **


	8. In My Dreams

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter… though I wish I did. Nor am I quite as creative as J.K. Rowling, though I wish I was. A lot of wishing, isn't there? Anyway, on to the story, hope you enjoy this next installment. I also wish to thank **roleena kashka**, **markitdownb4itsstruck, whiterose619 **(for all three of her wonderful comments), the anonymous **jes **and **christina.** Also, on an older chapter- **leessar. **Thank all of you guys. You keep my inspiration going.

**Chapter Eight: In my Dreams**

-

_A Dream Within A Dream_

_Yet if hope has flown away  
In a night, or in a day,  
In a vision, or in none,  
Is it therefore the less gone?  
All that we see or seem  
Is but a dream within a dream.  
_

Author: Edgar Allan Poe 

-

Hermione skipped down the steps, taking them two at a time. The first set of tickets to the upcoming Quidditch match had been handed out, albeit her seats were next to Draco Malfoy. She was so excited to mail off her letter to Harry that even that simple fact didn't dampen her spirits. However, her enthralled mind didn't ignore an opportunity to curse Slytherin's ex-prince. _That detestable, rotten bag of – _

"But Elda, I just don't think they are ready." The voice pleaded, soft footstep crossing the padded wood floor.

Hermione stopped, interest piqued. She listened through the oaken door, voices slightly dulled by the barrier between them.

"I beg to differ," Madam Monfrey spoke up. "Dumbledore has prepared them well."

_Prepared? For what? _Hermione wrinkled her forehead in confusion. What were her and Draco bound to do and why, of all questions, together? She leaned closer to the door, pressing her ear against the cool wood.

"I don't know. He's a dark-" The voice broke off abruptly, followed by a ringing silence.

"No," Hermione mumbled, straining for even the smallest amount of a word. Suddenly, her balance was ripped away and she tumbled to the floor as the door swung open. Madam Monfrey stared down at her, eyes flashing.

"Do you need something, Miss Granger?"

"No, um," Hermione stammered as she picked herself up off the floor. "Just looking for the Owlery."

"I should think you would know where that is by now," Monfrey crossed her arms over her chest, eyebrow raising as if in interrogation.

"Just got a little turned around," Hermione laughed nervously. She pointed down the hall, "I guess I'll just try this way." She began to make her way down the corridor. Peaking behind her, she saw Madam Monfrey close the door with a stern reproach of, "nosy children."

Hermione hurried to the Owlery, quickly sending off her letter to Harry. She almost spilled the entire conversation between teachers out on the letter, but instead she scribbled, "I have something important to tell you at the match."

After sending off the letter, Hermione checked the time. It was roughly noon, which meant she needed to head out to the green house to prepare for Herbology.

On her way out the door, Gregory the Ghost caught her off guard. He spiraled around her, chanting softly under his breath. "You know," he stopped abruptly, spectral eyes focusing on her. "That boy is bad news," he chimed in, nodding toward the green house.

"I'm well aware that Malfoy is not the model citizen." She went to walk past Gregory, but he held out a hand to stop her.

"Then why do you insist on falling?" After the question left his lips, he disappeared into the dusty air.

Hermione shook her head, once again confused by the strange inhabitants of this house. She was certain that she was not falling in love with Draco Malfoy, not in this life or any other.

Hermione dashed across the field, running late for her class. Madam Nasia was going to kill her. Hermione cringed at the idea of the pale instructor sucking her blood dry. Hermione burst into the green house, sliding to a halt at the scene in front of her.

Draco Malfoy was listening intently as Madam Nasia held up a small yellow flower with slight resemblance to the sunflower. He was dutifully scribbling notes on a piece of parchment.

"So good of you to decide to join us, Miss Granger." Nasia looked up, her unearthly eyes twinkling with mirth.

Draco turned around in his seat, giving Hermione a once over. The action would have caused her to blush had her mind not been frantic with all the strange incidents of the morning.

"We're going over the Arnica flower today and several others if we have time. It is a non-magical flower, different from Mandrakes or gillyweed. However, it does have its magical usage. It is said to cure bruises, stiffness and muscle soreness."

Hermione grabbed her parchment from her bag, quickly copying down Madam Nasia's words. "I need to speak to you after class," she murmured to Draco.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, nodding that he heard her. However, he made no other recognition that she was there throughout the rest of the class. He sat silently, including no smart comments or witty remarks in the lecture.

Madam Nasia dismissed them for lunch a little after 12:30, but Hermione led Draco off toward the yew tree. "What is it, Granger? I don't have time to participate in your wild-goose chase."

Upon reaching the edge of the wood, Hermione spun around to face him. The scanned the yard to make sure no one had followed them before speaking. "I overheard Madam Monfrey and Madam Elda talking about us this morning."

"Us? I hardly think I would have given any hint that there was something going on between a Malfoy and a Mudblood. That would be a sin upon the Malfoy name," Draco's nose rose in disgust as he glanced away from her.

Hermione's eyes darkened, anger causing her fist to clench. "No, you nitwit, they weren't talking about _us _as a couple. They mentioned that we were prepared… but I don't know what for."

"Prepared?" Draco crossed his arms, eyes squinting in thought. "Maybe there is some kind of test."

"But what of the others? Are they not going to take the same test? She said only that Dumbledore had prepared _us _well." Hermione shook her head, "none of it makes sense."

Draco's eyes drifted past her, focusing on the large red berries of the yew tree. They floated on the branches, their bloody color a stark contrast to the forest greenery. Draco couldn't suppress a shiver. "Nothing about this place makes sense. I've felt-" Draco broke off, leaving his thoughts on the ghostly apparitions unspoken.

"I know what you mean," Hermione turned around, focusing on the wavering branches of the yew tree.

-

The trees seem to slowly dance by the carriage, meandering along behind them. To Hermione, it didn't seem like the carriage was moving at all but that the landscape drifted past like some wind-up toy.

The compartment they were in was crowded, filled with all six students from the school. The three girls crunched on one side and the boys on the other. Fortunately, she had gotten the window seat. However, on the unfortunate side, so had Draco. He sat across from her, constantly making snide comments about how much room her "abnormally large feet" were taking up.

Sybil sat in the middle, quiet as usual with a book in her lap. Her glasses were perched precariously on the end of her nose as her eyes following the words as the bounced with the carriage. Over the time Hermione had gotten to know her, she realized that Sybil was always pretty silent and always watched her peers as if she knew something that they did not.

She always, Hermione had noticed, watched Draco with a knowing… almost revered look. It was odd. Hermione had never seen anyone watch anyone with such earnest approval since she had been at Hogwarts with Harry and his fan girls. What made it even _more _odd was that it was Draco, Slytherin Pride and the utmost opposite of anything that comprised Harry.

Taber and Geir were very similar in aspect. Both lingered next to Draco's pale frame like dark shadows from another world. Despite their appearance, Hermione got along well with both students. In fact, Taber had already asked if she would like to go with him to get a drink in the nearby town Silston, a quaint little wizarding villiage.

A faint whiff of rose petals caught Hermione's attention. She turned to her side, focusing on the blonde beauty on the other side of the cart. She was idly plucking at her fingernails, every once in a while casting a look over at Geir. They had been at school for only a little over two weeks but Hermione could see the growing crush in the girl's eyes. Geir, however, didn't seem to notice anything. Laughing, Hermione thought, "_isn't that the nature of men." _

Soon, it was Camille that had broken the silence, hoping to get a word out of Geir. "So, how excited are you all about these seats?" She sounded exuberant, eyes dancing with the excitement of the upcoming game. "I've never been to a professional Quidditch match."

Both Geir and Taber raised their gaze, focusing on her. With Krum coming from Durmstrange, Hermione could imagine that they received tickets to a ton of matches.

"Never," Taber spoke up, the more vocal of the two.

"Nope," she shook her head, blonde curls catching the sun.

"Well," Hermione spoke up. "Our Draco here played on the Quidditch team back at Hogwarts, did you? Though his house was never good enough to score the cup over Gryffindor."

Draco smiled bitterly at Hermione, "No, never quite as accomplished as your dear Harry."

Hermione smiled, though the victory seemed sour. She turned her attention back out the window as the three students conversed among themselves.

Moments later, someone poked her in the arm. It was Sybil, swiftly shoving her large glasses back into place. "In my dream-"

The carriage swung to an abrupt halt, nearly throwing all the girls onto the laps of their male peers. Sybil's sentence was left unfinished in the excitement of arriving to their destination. Hermione stopped herself in time, obscenely close to the silver snake charm that Draco worn about his neck. Apologizing, she pushed herself back, accompanied by his help. As she lowered her self back into her seat, he removed his grasp from her arm.

"Thank you," Hermione said softly, eyes downcast.

"I just didn't want you sprawled all over my lap," he snapped. "Someone might get the wrong impression and think I've stooped to your level." His face held his usual characteristic snarl as he folded he arms across his chest defensively.

It was then that Hermione noticed that he was dressed in a long-sleeve black shirt. The sun was shining and the weather was warm being early August. However, Hermione bit back her comment on his choice of clothing and his choice of "your welcomes."

The door was open and the noise of the crowds blared into the tiny space. Hermione quickly darted from the carriage, eyes searching the crowd for Harry. People were everywhere, massed in huge groups with painted faces. Pink and black banners flowering around the field, boasting the colors of the opposing teams- the Transylvanian team and the Quiberon Quafflepunchers.

Large bat balloons circled in the sky above them, smaller versions attached to wrists of young children.

Through the crowd, Hermione thought she could make out the thin figure of Harry. She rushed toward him, people parting for her. "Harry," she called out. He turned toward her, waving, face alight.

Hermione noticed as she embraced him in a hug, that he was not alone.

**Author's note: Oh, cliffhanger. Don't you just love those? **

**Who do you think it is? And what does Sybil and Madam Monfrey mean? All will be revealed in due time… **

**Until next time, **

**Midnight Rain. **


	9. Dangerous Places

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter…I want to think all who reviewed and sorry this was so long coming. I've been very busy, but I'm hoping to get another chapter out in the next few days. This story is going by so slowly… but it's about to be getting exciting. I'm just trying to moderate myself and introduce all the characters… but now, it's time to get down to the juicy details. I'm hoping the next chapter will be longer.

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**Chapter Nine: Dangerous Places**

_Look at the light through the windowpane._

_That means it's noon,_

_That means we're inconsolable._

_Tell me how all this, _

_And love too,_

_Will ruin us. _

_These, our bodies, possessed by light._

_Tell me will never get used to it. _

-Richard Siken

-

Draco stepped out of the carriage, eyes lingering on his fellow Monfrey students. He searched the crowd, knowing that people would recognize him. Quidditch matches had always been a huge part of the wizarding community and that didn't exclude the DeathEathers.

Hermione had disappeared into the throng of fans, not that he minded – or so he told himself. Draco tried to avoid any relationship with possible future targets. The thought was bitter but he knew one day he would have to look Hermione in the eyes and murmur the unforgivable.

A chill brushed his spin just moments before two thick arms encircled him. "Draco, 'ello, missed you back home." Roughly, without warning, Draco was spun around in the large man's arms, coming face-to-face with Goyle. Goyle flexed his muscles as he stretched them over the wide expanse of his chest. The boy had only grown larger over the many years Draco had known him. "Goyle, what are you doing here?" Draco snapped, anger flashing in his eyes.

Despite the size difference in the two men, the larger one cowered his eyes, and shuffled his foot in the sand. "I just came to cheer on the Translyvanian team. You know how I like them."

"I don't mean here," Draco sighed, rolling his eyes. "I mean _here, _talking to me. You know-" Draco's voices dropped an octave, so that the whisper could only be heard by the man in front of him, and even Goyle had to lean closer to hear it. "You know that I'm undercover."

"Oh, yes," Goyle smiled broadly. "The Dark Lord told me to come check up on you." Goyle pointed proudly at his chest as Draco cringed from the loud explanation of the brute's presence.

Draco looked around quickly, noting that no one had heard their rather open conversation. "Goyle, just go watch your game… I'm doing fine unless you've ruined my cover-up."

Goyle's face crumpled, "You know I didn't mean nothing by it."

Sighing, Draco pushed past him, "Yes, yes, I know. Now, make yourself invisible. I'm certain that there are Aurors lingering around here and perhaps, even Harry Potter." As soon as the words left his mouth, the crowd seemed to disperse leaving him the perfect view of Hermione encircled in Harry's arms. Draco had to squint to see them as they were quite a distance off, but the man that stood next to the couple was unmistakable.

Goyle stepped up beside him, murmuring softly. "He's an Auror now and quite a good one at that. He works with Harry and Ron on most cases, through connections with Hermione. You remember that thing they had together back at Hogwarts."

"Yes, I remember." Draco said darkly as he focused on the man, a tall, familiar Bulgarian. He watched as Victor Krum embraced Hermione in his own friendly embrace, giving her a kiss on the forehead. The ex-Quidditch player had retained his buff physique, which at the moment was clad in a regular burgundy t-shirt and black pants.

Draco shooed Goyle away, commenting, "I'll catch up with you later. I have to go capture my seats before all these Aurors begin to suspect something." With a scowl, Draco trotted his way over to where Hermione stood.

She was in the middle of a story when Draco walked up beside her, hands shoved inside the pocket of his jeans. His silver eyes focused briefly on Harry, before his cold greeting parted from his lips. "Hello Potter, nice to see you again."

"Malfoy, I heard you were taking classes with Hermione." Harry's hand lingered protectively close to Hermione as if Draco was an unwanted serpent among the nestling.

"I can assure you, Potter, that I mean her no harm." Draco inserted his words into the conversation, warily of the death glare that he was receiving from Krum. "If I had wanted to, don't you think I would have done it away from all the Auror spies and her own personal body guard here," Draco nodded his head in Krum's direction.

Hermione spoke up before Harry could formulate a retort. "No, in fact, Harry, he's part of what I wanted to tell you about. To make a long story short, I stumbled upon Madam Monfrey talking and she was telling another teacher that Dumbledore had prepared us well and when I say us, I mean Draco and I." Hermione glanced briefly at Draco, noting the unease that surrounded his person.

Krum laughed loudly and it shook Draco to the bones. The Bulgarian pushed him out of the way, enveloping Hermione once again. "What could you two possible do together? Nothing. You hardly get along. Come along now; let's go watch this Quidditch Match. You can tell Harry and I all about this school of yours." Krum began to lead Hermione away from Draco. However, Harry lingered behind.

When Hermione and Krum were far enough away, Harry turned to Draco. His green eyes narrowed on the pale man, seeming to take in every aspect of his appearance. "I want you to know that I have spies trailing your every move."

Draco rolled his eyes, "And why is that, Potter?"

"I know _your _kind. You're are just like them, sniveling, cowardly. I don't want your hands anywhere near Hermione, ever. I love her like she's my own sister and I wouldn't want to see her hurt."

"Is this a threat?" Draco raised an elegantly curved eyebrow, stepping closer to Harry.

"No, Malfoy, this isn't a threat. It's a warning. If you or any of your Death Eater buddies do anything to her… I'll make sure you rot in Azkaban for a very long time." With that last warning, Harry trailed after Krum.

Draco was left standing, huddled inside his black shirt, watching the trio walk away. A scowled formed on Draco's pale features as he cursed Harry under his breath. "Who is he to think he can boss me around?" Draco felt his arm tingle before a cackling laugh reverberated faintly through his mind, nothing more. Voldemort, the name alone aggravated Draco. He should be enjoying his youth, but instead Draco's chasing after some pubescent green-eyed Auror. Draco shook his head, hating the name he was born into and the legacy he had to live up to.

Pulling his crinkled tickets from his pocket, he checked the seat number. It was a long way up. Sighing, Draco began his ascent up to his row.

Draco ended up watching most of the match alone, elbow resting on his knee so his upturned palm could support his head. Hermione, Harry and Krum had wondered off somewhere behind the scenes, so he could show them the inner workings of the match. Draco figured it was just Krum flaunting his world-renowned name and Quidditch knowledge.

"Don't worry." Draco turned toward the voice, noting that sometime during the first half Sybil had moved up beside him.

"About what?" he questioned the strange girl, already agitated by her presence.

"I believe that you'll see the error in your ways… darkness is such a lonely road to walk." Sybil smiled brightly at him, tilting her head to the side innocently.

"Why, might I ask, is this whole school set on seeing me as some sort of demon." Draco burst out, throwing his hands into the air. "Do I exude some sort of aura that people hone in on as evil? I like to think of myself as pleasantly cruel, not some sort of Lucifer spawn."

"No," a voice spoke up from behind the two. "You're the spawn of Lucius Malfoy- which is just about as bad, if not worse."

Draco turned around, eyes already narrowing at the redhead. "If you're here to see your precious Hermione and your god Harry, then they aren't here, Weasley."

Ron narrowed his eyes at the blonde. "I have no idea why your parents didn't murder you when you were born. Oh wait, that's because they are just as slimy, rotten piles of-"

Draco cut him off, raising quickly to his feet and catching Ron by the lapels of his collar. "Don't you dare speak of my mother like that, do you hear?" Draco's eyes flashed, anger causing his voice to shake.

"What are you going to do to me, Malfoy? Avada Kedavra me right here, in the middle of a full stadium." Ron bit back, childish fears dispersed. "You know what, just do it. Right now, so Hermione will lose her fantastical illusions about your new-found morality and I can prove you the sniveling Death Eater that you really are."

Draco's fingers itched for his wand. All the more reason, he told himself, not to reach for it. Instead, he shoved Ron away, stepping down the stadium steps. "Have a good life, Weasley or what's left of it. The Order and the Ministry are two very dangerous places to be in right now." Draco disappeared into the crowd just as Hermione ran up to Ron, embracing him tightly.

"I've missed you," she exclaimed, paying no mind to Ron's ruffled clothes or the lack of a rather pale-skinned man.

**Author's Note:** So, hope you all enjoyed it. And, like I said earlier, the next chapters will be getting into some good stuff.

Love,

Midnight Rain


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